Pink
by Sath
Summary: Trunks gets teased at school about his hair-colour and deals with it in his own unusual way...
1. My New Obession

Pink (part one)

o/~Pink - it's my new obsession   
Pink - it's not even a question o/~

Trunks wrenched open the door and slammed it shut behind him shoving all his anger with it. He stood alone in the kitchen, trembling with pent up rage. His thoughts still centred on what he was labeling the worst day at school he'd ever had. For some reason all his classmates had chosen to take the complete piss out of him that day, and he could only blame the weather. It'd been hot, so he'd worn his denim cut-offs, he hadn't thought anything about it, he'd always worn shorts around the house. But he should have know better than to let the other boys from school have a view of his legs so soon after the Goten incident. Having pink leg-hair somehow didn't really help to convince people that he wasn't gay. He'd argued that it was just the natural colour and he couldnt help it, he'd complained that it was more lilac than pink, but that one really hadn't helped. He knew that most of them didn't mean it to go beyond a little joke, but still somehow they're laughter still hurt him. Trunk sighed deeply, the noise coming out as half a growl, his book bag slowly slid from his shoulder and slid to the floor by his feet. A half-hearted kick sent the unaffending bag flying across the room to hit the fridge. Another sigh and he trudged over to pick up the spilt contents, then dragged it slowly up the stairs behind him as he headed for his room and another teenage depression-session. /Yeh, blame it on the weather.../ he thought to himself, /tho if this really needs to be blamed on someone, It'd be mom. After all isnt it her that I get my colouring from? Even still why'd I get pink (no! lilac!) when she was aqua?! Aqua wouldn't have been half as bad, a couple of the boys at school have green and no-one questions their sexual preferences.../

Trunks paused on the landing to rub the top of his thigh irritably as though the action might rid him of the offending hair. /Well it was fine for mom, she never had to suffer ridicule for the colour of her leg hair; she could shave hers off.../ Trunks's gaze drifted across to the entrance to his mom's room. It was empty, Bulma was away on another long business trip. Trunks frowned and bit his lip, he'd just given himself one of the strangest ideas he'd ever had, and he was unsure whether to carry it through or not. Once again his book-bag slid forgotten to the floor as he took a hesitant step towards the silent room. The voices and laughter of his so-called friends echoed through his mind, making it up for him. 

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub in his mother's ensuite stripped down to just a pair of plain black boxers trunks stared fearfully at the razor that lay beside him on the sill. Strangely, it was like facing one of his foes in the fighting ring. He wandered vaguely if fighting Cell would have been stricken him with the same emotions that were churning through him right now. In a way he was running in a way he was bowing to his classmates' insults but in another way he was laughing right in their face. Daring them to say anything more, because of course if he went to school with legs as pretty and smooth as his own mother's he'd be admitting to them all that his sexuality truly was in question. /Oh not in question.. its as certain as anything..../ he grinned to himself thinking back to the nights of revelation that he'd shared with his close friend Goten... Trunks grasped the can of shaving foam with determination and squirted a good bit into his palm. He grimaced immediatly, /pink. why does it have to pink?!/ He put the can back down on the bath-edge with a little more force than was necessary and concentrated in smothering his thighs in the bright pink gel that gradually worked into a slippery foam. Trunks gasped at the feel of the pure white lather sliding over his thighs beneath his hands. Now he knew why this was a women only thing, women had a habit of keeping the best for themselves. A low purr built in him as he traced his forefinger in pleasureable circles through the foam. Tilting his head to the side, a lazy smile gracing his features Trunks played with his fingers across the sensitive skin of his calves. Caught up in his private fun, Trunks nearly overbalanced on the bath-sill and caught himself quickly before he landed on his arse in the shallow bathwater. Blushing at himself Trunks tried to refocus his attention on the task at hand. Gripping his mother's razor tightly in his hand, Trunks drew his first shaky stroke up his leg; watching the clean line of bare flesh that it left behind it. Trunks smiled.

Dropping the towel on the floor that he'd just dried himself off with, trunks stepped out into the main bedroom to see if he could find a mirror to better view his efforts. Looking around he could see a couple of mirrors lying around, but Trunks needed a full length one.. He crossed to the huge wardrobe that adorned one wall of his mother's room and opened a random door. He was rewarded with the biggest mirror he'd ever seen. He gazed wonderingly at the long smooth legs that belonged to his reflection, he couldn't belive they looked so.. so feminine.. Turning to the side to admire himself from all angles he found himself being drawn to the contents of the wardrobe next to him. Trunks reached one hand out tentavily to take hold of an item that he could just about remember his mother wearing once; a short faded-denim skirt, frayed along the bottom and made up to look patched. He took it from its hanger and looked down at it, licking his lips unconciously. The demi-saiyan had a real urge to see what he looked like in this skirt with his newly-shaved legs. Casting a half-fearful look around the room, though he knew he was alone in the whole house he slowly slid the skirt from its hangar. Trunks breathed in slightly as he zippered up the skirt, the fabric was stretched tight across thighs that were larger and more muscled than its owner's. Wiggling his hips suggestively at his reflection trunks giggled to himself thinking how he enjoyed the feel of the rough denim on soft skin silky from the slight residue of the shaving foam. Trunks shrugged to himself and decided to complete the appearance by putting on the top that had been hung underneath the skirt. He slipped it on, it was a little baggy considering it was meant to house breasts that were actually larger than his torso. It's thin delicate straps contrasted nicely with the denim skirt he wore. Trunks noted that it was pink, but he didnt actually mind anymore, it was pale enough not to be an eyesore at least. Brushing a strand of hair behind his ear that had come loose from its pony-tail Trunks winked at himself in the mirror. He didnt hear the faint creak of footsteps on the landing outside, too caught up in his new obsession. "I look like a.. hentai.." he breathed, smiling at his own dirty thoughts.

Following Trunks' quiet comment the room was suddenly filled with an outburst of loud laughter. Laughter that wasn't his own, but was all too familiar to Trunks. He spun round, heat of embarassement and yes.. guilt.. rising in his cheeks and he spread his arms across his front in a feeble attempt to hide his chosen attire. Hopeless... /oh no, not him, anyone but him....!/


	2. It Just Goes With The Fashion

Pink (part two)

o/~Pink - it's the color of passion 'cause today it just goes with the fashion o/~

Trunks found himself being scrutinised by his father, who was having trouble controlling his laughter. Trunks shifted uncomfortably still blushing madly. "Well I have to say the outfit looks better on you than it ever did on that woman." Vegeta finally said. "Nani..?" Trunks gave his father a confused look that slowly turned into suspicious. /Why did he have to find me like this? I just know I'll never live in peace again!!/ Trunks wailed in mental anguish, /And why does he keep staring at me, it'd be better if he just called me a baka and left!/

Vegeta, as he stared at his obviously confused son, sighed to himself and scowled irritably. He hated playing the loving father, and he really hated having father-son talks, but one was really needed here. /If I don't deal with the brat now, that stpuid woman is going to find out and take it up with him..../ No matter how much the Saiyan Prince hated helping his children with their teenage problems he wouldn't let Bulma meddle with Trunks' mind in her annnoying 'motherly' way. Vegeta made his decision.

"I think it's time we had a... talk.." the last word felt a little heavy on Vegeta's tongue, probably because he wasn't usually found asking people to talk to him. Trunks was still waiting to be murdered and was now lost for words.  
"..but..."  
"No buts." Vegeta cut him off, "We're going to talk. Now." Vegeta made his point by turning and walking from the room. Trunks' throat suddenly felt very dry, he swallowed a few times and followed his father from the room.

In the large kitchen of the Briefs' house, Vegeta stood with his arms folded across his chest, trying not to smirk as Trunk stood in the doorway tugging on his skirt. "Sit." Vegeta guestured for Trunks to take a chair at the table. Trunks did so quietly, still pulling nervously on the bottom of his skirt. Vegeta went to the large fridge and took out two bottles of some strong alchoholic drink and opened them both. He slid one across the table to Trunks before sitting down opposite his son, still saying nothing. Vegeta didn't trust himself to say anything without thinking about it carefully at that moment in time, and the alcohol was more for his own nerves than Trunks'. To Trunks the silence between them was awkward, "You're not angry..?" He asked quietly.  
"No." was his father's direct answer.   
Trunks was confused but still didn't dare ask why, he was very wary of his Father in this unusually accepting mood. "You wont.. you wont tell mom will you..?" Trunks hid his blushing cheeks by staring down at his lap.  
"Hn. You think she'd be angry? Trust me brat, she'd only laugh it off. She obviously found it very funny when she caught me..." As his father's words hit his ears they hardly registered, Trunks slowly lifted his head and stared wide-eyed across the table at Vegeta. 

Vegeta's eyes refused to meet Trunks', instead his gaze fell across the two bottles on the table-top between them. He wondered idly how come they'd been finished so quickly, now he was glad of an excuse to leave the table and the awkard feeling that came from knowing what he'd just confessed to Trunks. He got up quickly and crossed again to the fridge.

Trunks followed his father's movements. "Nani...?" He breathed in wonder.. "You..." he couldn't finish the question.. he really couldn't. Vegeta turned from the fridge, two freshly opened bottles clenched tight in his hands belying his inner turmoil. He shoved one at Trunks who was still gaping at him like an idiot. "You know mom doesnt really like me drinking.." Vegeta took a long drink from the bottle he was left with.  
"Fuck your mother." he stated simply, "We'll do as we like!"   
With that Vegeta grabbed hold of Trunks' free hand and practically dragged him from the room.   
/nani?!/ was all Trunks could think.

And Once again Trunks followed in his father's footsteps with apprehension, dread and more than a little confusion.


End file.
